Red wine Stains
by LilleHannigan
Summary: OOC AU "My name is Bella Swan. I have blue eyes and an impressive collection of lesbian porn because, well, masturbating on your own is depressing. I lack decency, modesty, courtesy and many other qualities ending in -y." Bella goes to rehab...
1. Constipated lady

Chapter One

Constipated Lady

'My name is Bella Swan. I have blue eyes and an impressive collection of lesbian porn because, well, masturbating on your own is depressing. I lack decency, modesty, courtesy and many other qualities ending in -y. I hate eating. I hate drinking. I hate talking about eating or drinking. Actually, I hate most things about my life. I'm angry, but probably just confused. I'm known as Blow Job Swan at my school, which is better than being unknown, thank you very fucking much Jessica hair-the-color-of-shit Stanley. Everything about me is boring, but I'd hate you to figure that out. I'm crazy selfish. I don't self harm because I think that's pathetic and I'd like to think I'm not pathetic. I love to play the guitar but I'm actually shit at it. Most days I'm far too fat but sometimes I feel skinny. I hate most teenage girls because they are psycho's who are out to kill one another. I slit my wrists so therefore, by my own admission, I am pathetic. Afterwards I swallowed roughly 45 tablets of 100mg Zydol. That's why I'm here.'

My guidance counselor, Renee, my "mother" for my stay at Purity House nodded gently, willing me to continue. This cold, forest gated place was the only youth rehabilitation facility within a 150 mile reach of Forks. It was home to old caring hippies and kids like me. We all had our poison; Crack, booze, Bora Aksu. Renee's dream catcher earrings swayed slowly as she continued her attempt at nudging me into my first breakdown here. I stayed strong, decided I hated her and continued.

'I am a walking contradiction. I have no idea who I am, not even a vague notion. I tell jokes I see on TV. I don't know if actually like The Simpsons or not, they're just comforting to watch. I give away too much and I always get hurt. The end.'

'Very good Bella. Everyone, welcome Bella please.' I really fucking hated Renee, especially for the pseudo compassionate tone she used. You don't know me, idiot.

I stared at the group of ten, dead in the eye, all at once, or at least I really tried. I wanted to shock them, surprise them, hurt them. . .evoke some sort of response. I was not ready for their reaction. They were paying attention but utterly under-whelmed. We were addicts, we had our own issues. We didn't really care about each other. A red haired girl was grinding her teeth and staring at me. I didn't practice my speech, but I was hoping that they would feel something. I just told them everything, or at least I tried to. I mean, I'm in rehab for fuck's sake. That was my moment to tell my story and it was so pointless. So fucking empty.

'Welcome Bella.' The sing song of sad voices cut me into pieces.

'Fuck you all very much', I replied. God, one feels very alone when twenty blood shot eyes holding irises that practically rape you are staring straight at you. They read me, judged me. They knew more about me than I could figure out on my own already. I really didn't like it, the not knowing.

'May I be fucking excused?', I half asked, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go.

'Yes and no', Renee replied.

'What the fuck does that even mean? You're meant to help with my general state of fucking confusion not add to it you. . .you constipated-lady.' Charlie couldn't say I wasn't trying; I did call the idiotic hippy a lady.

'You may leave, but you will have to owe me, or yourself, another group session to complete at your own time. You will also have to have a discussion with the camp director, Charlie, to deal with. However, the alternative is staying.'

Why the fuck was constipated-lady smiling? We all hate you constipated-lady. _You._We hate _you_. You hate yourself just as much as we do, so don't you sit around here acting so fucking smug. You have lipstick on your teeth, by the way.

'Fine.'

'Well, which is it?'

'I'm still here', I replied through clenched teeth.

Still smiling at me. . .Why is she smiling?? Fucking joker wannabe.

'Ok then, I'm going to continue talking to the group', Renee said patronizingly.

'Please do.'

What the fuck is this place? Budget rehab?

I kicked off my Chucks and got familiar with my chair. Looking around the room again, I let my mind melt. I didn't listen to constipation-lady. I saw a guy I could fuck later. He was cute in an entirely predictable way; sandy blonde hair, green eyes, dimples. Whatever, I had played three games of scrabble with the janitor since arriving last night, I needed something else to distract me. I did like fucking but I always thought my tits were too small so it never really became an obsession of mine. It's difficult to be sexual when you look like a little boy. I was proud I never fucked for drugs, unlike Lauren. She never paid for them. He would do all right.

My eyes roamed to a girl with tit's much bigger than mine. I'd punch her later. She had that look about her a person usually associates with the preppy head-cheerleader. You know, the one everyone hates and wants to do at the same time. Girls included. I liked fighting, preferably before fucking but my thought process usually places fucking first. I tried to calm down so I contemplated all the shitty things in this world. Aids, starvation, genocide, rape, abuse, racism, Madonna. Then I imagined what concoction of shit I'd take once I got back out there.

Entrée

Weed from Malaga.

Spice.

A shoulder of Malibu.

I zoned back into the bullshit conversation occurring in front of me, some other bitch was moaning about how her mother never loved her. Constipated-lady just did that stupid head nodding thing with her mouth curled into a smile. The red blob of color smeared on her white teeth screamed at me. I held out for a moment, trying to keep it together. I couldn't.

'Could you please wipe that fucking lipstick off your teeth? It's incredibly distracting', I growled. The escape of those words gave me the release I needed for now, I settled back down and considered my main course.


	2. Yellow Teeth

Chapter 2

Yellow teeth

_Listen, this is how it's going to go. I'll continue this if you want but you're going to have to review. I'm a person typing this, thanks for all the favourite addy's but that doesn't really satisfy me. Tell me it's shit if you'd like, I'd fucking prefer that than hearing nothing. But thanks to tiadorna, this one is for you._

My head was pounding for two weeks solid; I lay in bed each and every night covered in a thin layer of sweat. I hadn't bathed in a week or really looked at myself in the mirror in three weeks. I knew my wrists were bandaged from the hospital. I could feel my front tooth was chipped and my incisor missing. Dark circles laced my eyes and my lips were cracked and bleeding. I got sick most mornings. Each time I had shat a torrent of sludge would burn my asshole. My body was burning itself clean and scorching my mind but still all I wanted was a fucking drink. I could close my eyes and hear a bottle of vodka spill its way into a shot glass. I could feel my hand encapsulate the cold hard bottle that could turn me on more than any dick ever would. I could see the pure white crystal of good nose candy on my bedside locker, so light and easy.

If I was at home I could at least talk to Angela, Lauren or hell, even Jessica. We would distract each other, have a smoke. All Purity had to offer you was coffee and a selection of fresh fruit and vegetables that turned my shit the funkiest shades of brown, black and green. I didn't speak to fucking anyone here, other than that guy who I met in the group session. After it had ended I walked over to him. When I saw his name badge red 'Fuck off and stop being so nosy', I knew he could give me what I wanted. Jay and I never really said much to each other, we just fucked. He was no "backwards cowgirl" type of guy but he'd do. Fucking was a nice break from all the talking.

Each and every session I had with Renee this week was the same shit over and over again. I would make a statement and the dumb ditzy bitch would ask me about my fucking feelings. The thing was, all I could think about was having my poisons. Even when I was fucking Jay in his room, his lips were fucking vodka. His dried white junk on my jeans was coke.

And even with my messed up head we talked. And fucking talked. I told Renee how I never knew my father and that I had a sneaking fucking suspicion my mother didn't either. How I hated her. That I had ran away from home four times by the time I was 6 and was taken into protective services at about 7. I didn't remember much about her if I'm honest, just the smell of smoke, cheap acidic wine, never having electricity and being scared. What a fucking delight she was. Renee, putting on that bullshit voice again, told me that she died last year and then held her fucking arms out as if to hug me.

'Fuck off, she was never my mother anyways', was all I had to say about it. I never knew her anyways, it'd been ten years. I didn't need some freaky fucking hippy hug. I didn't think about it again, we moved on in our conversation to some other trivial fucking topics.

It was shit that Renee knew my back-story. Since I had told her what she needed to know, she wanted to know how I felt about it all. I told her all she needed to know, I'm confused, I'm angry, I'm pathetic. It wasn't enough, she wanted to know why I felt like this? And then how do I feel about feeling like this? She was asking too many fucking dumb questions that really didn't have the fucking answers to. I thought that was her fucking job. If the gang in Forks could see me now, they would shit themselves laughing. Or at least Lauren would. They would probably know by now that something was up, my fosters wouldn't tell them, but they would know. After I started cutting people started talking. I wasn't just fucking about and having fun anymore, suddenly "I was sick". That was bullshit. We all cut every time we pulled a whitey, drank too much for too many days or had some shit coke. Cutting was the same thing really, just a lot fucking cheaper.

On Monday we had the most idiotic conversation. That was when I really started to consider leaving this place.

'What did you do last night Bella?' Renee asked in an incredibly whiny voice, her head tilting to the side like a sad puppy. I couldn't get over how she could put so much fucking emotion into a question she didn't want to ask? I was seriously fucking sick of her pretending to hang on my every word.

'You're getting paid to do this hippy bitch, you don't care about us so please cut the fucking bullshit empathy. If you must know the highlight was taking a very exquisite dump in that dumb bitch Rosalie's bathroom. I left it there with a note telling her to "eat it".'

She responded with, 'and how did that make you feel Bella?'

'Fuck off Renee.'

'Why are you so angry Bella? You obviously want help. You don't like who you are. You're not happy. If you want to change things around you've got to work with me, not against me Bella.'

Snickering I said, 'I'm angry because I haven't had any blow in 2 weeks and I'm sore from fucking Jasper, the guy from our group sessions. You know, he fucks like he's pogo stick'.

'Did that make you feel better?'

'Yes', I managed as I continued laughing at this bullshit interaction.

'No. I don't think it did Bella, I think it distracted you. That's how you work, distraction. You have an addictive personality. Over the years you have developed these character traits that make you more susceptible to becoming dependent on substances. You're abusing substances and yourself to avoid dealing with why you feel shit. You take shit to hurt yourself. You don't do it for the high do you? You just don't like yourself. It could be just your mother, or just your father, or everything. I need to find out what it is so I can help you. That's it, that's all I want to do, ok?'

'You're shit at your job Renee, you and your little team of white coats can't help me.'

'Ok, I'm going to finish this session early. You really shouldn't be engaging in sexual activity. It's one of our rules, measures will have to be taken to ensure this doesn't occur again. This is an opportunity for you Bella and I'm not interested in a power struggle, I'm not going to break you. You need to change some things in your life, if you want I can help you with that.'

'If you think I'm ever going to trust you, you need to get laid. Shake your shit up a little. You're getting all old and confused,' I said.

'You were so open when you first came in here, I could tell you were just a really confused young lady. You are smart and funny and much better than this. You deserve more than being a regular here at Purity, coming back when you're deeper and deeper in. You need to stop hurting yourself and get out of this cycle now.'

'I get it', I replied. I had seen first hand at what happened when you don't get out. Last I had heard James was pretty serious with smack and you don't usually come back from that shit.

On Tuesday I spent the day alone, not contemplative or anything. Just bored and frustrated. I wanted to leave. I kept away from Jasper like they told me to, ignoring him when he came over at breakfast. He didn't care seemed to like some little newbie anyway, a little zippy anorexic called Allie. She was sweet, addicted to diet pills, which is a pussy addiction, but whatever.

On Wednesday I brought a thesaurus into our one-on-one session. When she fucking used the word "feel" three times before I had gotten to my chair I lost it.

'If you say "feel" once more, I swear to god, I'm going to fucking tear these walls down. Please, just look up some other fucking words if we're going to do this.'

As I took aim, I sensed my wasted yellowed arms taughten under its weight. I threw the fat leather book at her and was left with a slow ache pulsing through my arms for a few moments. Throwing was such a release, but that simple fucking fling left me tired. I didn't care too much, but I realised that my foster parents were right when they said I really had made a shit out of my body.

Bitch caught it with one hand just before it smacked her in the face. Clearly she had her green tea this morning. If I didn't hate the woman so much, I'd be impressed. She didn't get mad, she didn't even mention it. She just flicked it open, leafing through the pages absentmindedly. She didn't speak, so neither did I. The air in the room became heavy with tension, then, she broke the silence…

'Blessed. Have you ever felt blessed Bella?'

'I'm not fucking religious Renee, but if you weren't so busy being so fucking shit at your job you'd notice.'

'I don't mean it in a religious sense Bella. If you weren't such a shit patient you'd listen.'

'What the fuck? You can't talk to me like that.' I argued in disbelief. I didn't know who was paying her but I'm pretty sure she didn't get to say things like that to me.

'You're right, I probably shouldn't, but it's true. Just answer the question. To feel blessed, Bella. Have you ever felt blessed?'

'I don't get it Renee,' I said and shrugged.

'To feel blessed is to think you are worthy. Blissfull, endowed, favored, fortunate, glad, granted, joyful, joyous, lucky. Do you feel good Bella? Do you experience that? Are you thankful for anything you have Bella?

'Not really.'

'Why not?'

'What the fuck do I have?' I shouted.

'Anything you want. You just want the wrong things. So, what do you want Bella?'

'Cocaine.' I pulled at frayed edges of a grey cushion on my deep blue chair. I concentrated on the feeling of the fibres that I ripped from it. Squeezing and rolling them into a ball as my fingers and thumb brushed to make a snapping sound of bone against bone.

'I'm serious Bella, one way to move from drug and alcohol addiction is to see what else is out there. What else you could be spending your time amounting to. What do you want Bella?'

'Cocaine is a $35 billion dollar industry surpassing coffee as Columbia's greatest export. Fuck it Renee, I'm doing my little bit to help Jose, Maria and little Juanita that needs new fucking sandals', I argued, with a smile of course because this whole fucking thing was a joke.

'You're smart Bella, that's fine, but what do you want?'

She stressed the words so fucking menacingly I freaked out. My pulse raced, my underarms moistened almost instantaneously. I was shitting myself. I could feel my cheeks burning.

'I don't know.'

'That's ok. So long as you realise there's more out there. Your addictions, depression, your bad start to life, it's robbed you of who you are. You just need to figure out who that is.'

'I'm Bella, Renee.'

'I thought you'd say that. You have a smart assed little answer for everything don't you?'

'Would it be really clichéd if I said yes? I'll be serious with you for a second Renee, I don't know if I want to go back to school at home. I mean, if this is going to work out here. I don't think I'd like that. I guess I'm ready to leave all that shit behind but I still want it, so I guess I'm only actually ready to leave the wanting behind. That whole scene is all I have in Forks. Be a piss head is what I do, all I do..'

'Well, at least you're thorough. We actually offer a specific programme for some of our patients. You can stay with your foster parents or here, it's the same charge so we try to make it your choice. So if you continue with me and if we make some progress you can enrol with one of our tutors here to get your diploma. That would be a start, something to work on?'

'I'll see, like you said "If I continue". That's a big fucking if Renee.' I shook my head, looking around the bright yellow room. Big stupid fucking photos hung on the walls. Idiots with big smiles and yellowed teeth thought they were going to be ok out in the real world. Purity was a fucking cushy little corner.

'I got it Bella, how about we talk about something else?'

'Do I have a choice?' I cringed as I asked, pleading with whatever type of God there is to say yes. I already had enough for today. I stretched in my chair, attempting to get comfortable but my arm still throbbed. I rubbed the muscle, surprised at the bone.

'Not really no but I like to let my patients feel like they have a choice.'

'Fuck Renee, you're all about the feelings aren't you?' I laughed, imagining what it would be like to be married to this woman.

'Yes I am Bella.' Renee nodded with a big healthy smile. She had all her own teeth and I hated her.

'Ok, at least I know where I stand with you. So, what are we talking about now?', I asked, fucking curious to see what fucking question she could possibly ask that she hadn't already.


	3. Fruit

Chapter three

Fruit

_So thanks to tiadorna and silverfai, you guys rock my rehab world. If you want Eddie in the next chapter you fucking gotta review. I need extra strength to write him in all his glory. Let me know if you want him as an addict or not, go on…let me know…_

When I returned from my session with Renee I grabbed some fruit from the communal kitchen and ran out of the place. I didn't want to be cornered by the wierd gambling dude that kept asking if you wanted to bet with him against stupid shit like the weather. Charlie passed me by as I was making my quick exit.

'Good for you Bella, you know an apple a day keeps the doctor away.' I didn't even look up at his big red cheery face and greying dreadlocks as I passed but I could hear the smile in his voice. He was like a Bob-Marley-Santa-Clause hybrid.

'Fuck off Charlie,' I said with spirit as I walked on by.

'Ok then, have a nice day Bella,' he called after me. I turned around to give him the fucking stink eye but he was going on about his work. How can you just let shit bounce off you like that? He took a hold of his old school camera that hung around his neck and started photographing the fruit. I'd say consistent and prolonged marijuana usage is a pretty good guess.

I went back into my room and sat down on my bed. It was quiet and peaceful so I called into Miss Rosalie's suite next door. Don't get me wrong, I still didn't like these pussy idiots. I just didn't want to have to think about my future, which apparently I now had. I pulled open the door and walked straight into a very fucking weird situation. Rosalie was collapsed on the floor, the slashed remains of a rope similar to the ones which we used for abseiling lay beside her. Jasper crouched over her as Alice watched on. Rosalie was all legs and tits sprawled out on the floor and moaning, I never saw the bitch look so fucking unkempt. I could imagine the individual strands of her blonde hair bitching to each other.

'We shouldn't look like this, we deserve much better. Where is our treatment mask Rosalie?'

I giggled and took a bite of my red shiny apple pretending it was a lump of waxy hash.

'What the fuck is this, an S and M threesome?'

I walked on, coming closer to the group. I was always a curious little shit. Her mascara ran down her cheeks as she wailed like a fucking animal. Allie started screaming punctuating her fucking yelps with the Swiss army penknife she was holding. The sharp blade was still projecting from the red capsule.

'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the hell were you think Rosalie?'

As I approached I noticed the red tether marks around her neck. I stopped suddenly. How fucking melodramatic of that Rosalie bitch, hang yourself in rehab? Seriously? What, you're in here for being addicting to fucking Louboutin's. Are you so idiotic that you think shoes are worth more than life?

'Rosalie, you're a fucking idiot', I shouted, 'how could you be so stupid? They're just shoes! I mean you have everything, you have a fucking mother. You have tits for Christ sake. You're killing yourself because you want more clothes. That's fucking pathetic. '

'Shoes, you think I'm fucking addicted to shoes?' Rosalie screamed at me from the floor. She looked like a fucking cave woman.

'Aren't you, I mean, fuck…wait? Aren't you?' I gasped, sputtering to a halt. It occurred to me I never found out what she was addicted to, in my time here I just had decided it was shopping. My mind was so fucking tired, I couldn't distinguish between reality and shit I told myself to feel better. Nobody really talked about their poisons but you could guess pretty easily. Alcoholics always looked really fucking sad. The stoners were funny in a trippy comatose kind of way. You could just watch them for hours, they'd talk about absolute shit. Paint flakes or how you need to butter all corners of your sandwich if its going to have an optimal test effect. The gamblers looked shifty, greedy. The anorexic girls were the skinny nervous ones, the creatine guys were huge. Then there were rich pretty blonde girls like Rosalie, they were the shopaholics whose trust funds ensured they'd never really be in debt. But still, they were, like, totally, like, addicted to, like, shoes. There was meant to be a fucking system.

Or at least I fucking thought there was.

Rosalie jumped up off the floor and started running at me. I backed away but nowhere near far enough. I felt a cool wall behind me, my heels pressed against the skirting board. I was still too close and this bitch was going off. She got within inches of my face and as she let out a frustrated sigh, I could feel her spit freckle my face.

'I'm not a fucking shopaholic. You might think you have things figured out because you've been here, what, three weeks? Try six months Bella. You know nothing. Nothing.' She yelled, absolutely about to loose it. Rosalie took a moment to look away and calm herself. She balled her fists before she stared me dead in the eye. 'You know nothing, about anyone and least of all about yourself. Everyone has their own reasons. We all have our own demons, none of which are any greater or lesser. They're all demons. Don't you get it? We're all the same Bella, you're no better or worse than any of us. We're all fucking addicts.'

Tears gathered in my eyes, my breathing laboured. I didn't know what the fuck I was feeling. I was confused. I didn't know my ass from my elbow. I didn't know how I ended up in this fucking cold tiled prison. My hands started to shake and I slid down against the wall. I just crumbled on the spot and stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. My little denim shorts and tank top leant me no warmth and I started to shiver. It was then that I remembered where I was, I felt a warm soft arm around me, I looked up into big green eyes.

'Bella, I'm…like you've heard of bipolar right?? You know, crazy uncontrollable euphoric highs, big bad lows.' Rosalie asked softly, I nodded in response feeling like a child.

'Umm, Sylvia Plath', I mumbled.

Rosalie looked over at Jay and Allie who both smirked.

'It's ok Ro, go on', Allie offered, nodding her head. I finally got why everyone nodded their head so much in rehab. We needed to be told what we're saying was ok to admit.

'Ya, just like Sylvia Plath. Well, I had a childhood no little girl should have, you know, sexually abused. It's made me a little wacko.' Rose laughed and pointed at her head with a long delicate index finger, her nails were perfectly manicured. She was so right, I knew absolutely nothing.

'I basically deal with my mania stages by having uncontrollable sexual urges. I don't even know which came first, the mania or the sex. I know it all sounds incredibly glamorous, but, it's horrible. It's not just being a slut and all that entails, it's scary. I mean, everything gets so fast, the words in my head are just flying. I feel like a basketball being bounced up and down way too close to the ground. I keep moving and moving. My body shakes. My head bobs. None of this will stop until I'm sexually satisfied. I still don't completely understand it. I really wish it was shoes Bella, but it's not. Today, it was just too much for me. I met someone who I really like and I didn't want to have sex yet, I wouldn't, but that's all I wanted to do. I refused myself for the first time since I was 14. My mind was still unravelling when Alice cut me down. It was only when I heard you say shoes that I'm calming down a bit. I'm still on a high, just more controllable.'

'Fuck', slipped quietly from my lips. It was all I could manage.

'So, I'd really appreciate if you didn't talk to anyone about this Bella?'

'Ya, ya, sure, of course', I responded looking up at her for a moment just to see her smile down at me.

'Good.'

I smiled back at her. I guess I couldn't hate them now.

Jay and Allie left. Rose and I sat on the floor until Charlie knocked on the door and came in.

'Well, look at this, my two favourite girls are getting along, well isn't that a picture,' he chirped and pulled his camera up to take a shot.

We smiled, a gentle one, but it wasn't fucking forced. It felt ok.


	4. Orange Juice

Chapter four

Orange Juice

_S__o, thanks to everyone that read…but you fuckers really ought to review. Now, I just can't forget my main fuckers Tiadorna and Silverfai who've been with me from the start. Liquid Topaz, you're one loyal bitch, thanks for your feedback. Oh hopeful dreamer, fucking kudos to you my friend. Bailey394, teambellaedward and Clah, you guys are working your way into my little rehab gang. Keep reviewing people and…I'll keep writing.  
In other news, this chapter is a little bit fucking sick. Inspiration was from my Saturday night out this week where I personally discovered you don't mix anything with orange juice._

We stood in line, our itchy feet shuffled like we were in some sort of teenage chain gang. I was between two of the creatine kids, Emmett and Jacob, and feeling seriously fucking weedy. If this was really was prison, I would be fucked, even if Jacob had "ittie bittie titties" from steroid abuse. The nurse doled out our medication in a little trough and handed us a small glass of lukewarm water. My turn came and I got pretty fucking excited. I flicked the little green and white Prozac pills into my mouth and doused them. Opening my mouth I wiggled my tongue.

Different fucking drugs, same problem.

'Very good Bella, that's it. Tongue up once more please,' said the nurse. I obeyed, things seemed easier when I just fucking went with it. Then she continued, 'I'm glad to hear your behaviour has improved. Word for the wise, maybe you shouldn't start hanging around with Rosalie, she's not, shall we say, a patient whom we are very hopeful about.'

My newfound passivity went out the fucking window.

'Oh, ya thanks so much, Mrs Lynch, could you do something for me? It's just…well, you see,' I said sweetly, an innocent smile playing on my fucking lips and with her mind. I leaned in towards her ear and whispered 'don't ever fucking patronise me again, I'm not really the conniving type but I've seen you pocketing some of those pearly white Wellbutrin tablets. If you're that fucking depressed, get your fat fucking ass to a doctor and quit pretending you're any better than we are.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Mrs Lynch whispered right back. She really did do a good impression of a nice kind fifty-something lady who just wanted to help the kids. She straightened up and went along with her chores. She turned to Emmett, the next in line, ignoring my threat.

'Of course you know what I'm talking about', I countered, as I took her wrist. I wasn't letting this go, she enjoyed her position of power a bit too fucking much for my liking. Plus, she was a sick lazy bitch who I'd seen picking her nose on four separate fucking occasions

'You little narcissistic shit, who do you think you are?' I could feel her breath on my cheek; it was stale cigarettes and coffee. She was one if us alright. She looked around, ensuring there was no other staff around to see this. The cooks had breakfast set up, they were gone and she was the only nurse on duty this morning. Mrs Lynch was fucking lucky.

'And the plot fucking thickens,' I stood back, held up my hand and spoke into my imaginary Dictaphone, 'patient now showing potential rage disorder.' Looking her dead in the eyes I continued, 'Now I get why you took Emmett's Xanax the other day and fed him some bullshit Midol. I'm pretty sure the boy doesn't menstruate. Do you Emmett?'

'No I fucking do not', Emmett replied, folding his arms sternly.

'How did you…' Her face was reddening as she looked at us, I didn't really get much fucking joy in this but Rosalie was really fucking trying. We all were, we just had crap to sort through.

'Like I said, go see a fucking doctor and don't give us any more shit. We have enough to deal with, alright?' I didn't want to be smug bitch, but sometimes it was just to fucking easy.

I collected a big red tray from the counter and gathered up some food. My appetite was back with a fucking vengeance. I grabbed some pineapple first, which I had somehow gone 17 years without, and pilled my plate with cheeses, ham and a small baguette. Topping off my tray with a steaming cup of coffee, a glass of fresh orange juice and a bowel of lucky stars I sat down. My table at purity was empty, like it had been for the past month or so. I liked it that way, just me the milk jug, butter, salt and pepper. I reread the carving of names on the old table that had become so familiar; ChooChoo and Runaway Ray were a fucking hoot back in the day.

In my concentration I didn't realise that three bodies now filled the chairs around me. I raised my head to find Rosalie, Allie and Jay sitting with me and all fucking smiles. They were armed with their trays and it looked like they were staying.

We ate in silence. Allie picked at her designated meal, it was small, balanced and utterly boring. After each morsel of food she ate, she would down a heavy mouthful of ice cold water. It was fucking depressing. Rosalie finished her strawberry yoghurt and started licking her spoon clean with some serious enthusiasm; every guy in the place practically pissed their pants. Well, every guy except for Jay it seemed who just hounded down some sort of weird fucking meat sandwich he'd thrown together. Jay was punctuating each chew with moans I didn't even get when I gave him head. And I was fucking good at giving head.

'So, you like us. Emmett just told us what happened with you and Mrs Lynch', Rosalie teased with a big shit eating grin.

'Ya, ya. Whatever. She needed to be taken down a fucking peg or too. It wasn't anything personal Rosalie.'

'Shut up you liar. Thanks, alright? And Bella call me Ro.'

'Fuck it anyways, you're welcome, Ro.' I smiled back, laughing at a friendship being etched out by two complete fuck-up's.

We chatted about shit; about our lives so far and friends we has lost along the way. Allie told me her mother sent her watermelon nail varnish and she thought it'd look great on me. We teased Rose about Emmett. Jasper just fucking ate his way through three helpings of cold creamed rice.

The doors of the cafeteria opened, it was Emmett and some fucking sorry mess. They were walked over to our table. Dressed in dirty jeans and an old off white t shirt, the mess looked freezing. He hugged himself and played with his crazy copper wire hair as he made his way over. Mystery addict was limping slightly and wincing, trying to make his sick body move at the same pace as Emmett- boys and their fucking egos. As he came closer to the table, you could see that a thick layer of dark stubble sat on his chin. His eyes were drawn and empty. The sclera of his right eye was bruised, giving the eyeball a deathly red glow. The kid looked fucking filthy and miserable. He wasn't the worst addict I'd ever seen, but he really looked like shit.

'Guys, this is Eddie, he's new,' Emmett said.

Turns out he actually smelt like shit too.

'Hi Eddie,' everyone said together more or less. Except for Alice's high pitched lilt of 'Hello, nice to meet you Eddie' which could be heard teetering above our voices.

Eddie nodded, put his hands into his pockets and just stood there. The boy was fucked through and out the other side. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what his poison was. He was such a mess so maybe it was everything and anything. If it was , how was an utter shit-hole like Purity house going to help him?

'Sit down Eddie', Emmett ordered in a soft tone. Unfortunately for Eddie his voice still carried that innate menacing touch.

Eddie sat down pretty fucking quickly. He was directly in front of me and staring at my orange juice as if it was fucking liquid gold. I'd say the poor boy probably hadn't had vitamins in six fucking months.

Eddie smiled and croaked, 'excuse me, could I maybe have some of your juice?'

'Have a fucking ball,' I said as I noticed the mess of his teeth; Eddie looked like a fucking pirate. The sad thing was, he probably actually had fucking scurvy. His weedy little arms reached for the glass, his hands curved around the tumbler. I could see his filthy fingernails were long and fucking jagged. As the arms of his t-shirt rode up a little, fresh tracks on the inside of his elbow were visable. They were clean and neat and there wasn't many but junk was always a shitty sign.

'Fuck,' I muttered, amazed and fucking freaked out at the same time. How was he fucking sitting here cool as a bloody cucumber? Most of the junkies I know would kill to avoid rehab, but here he was, sitting quietly and saying "excuse me".

Eddie didn't hear, he just gulped the juice down. It trailed down his chin, dripping onto his t-shirt. He emptied the glass, tilting it every fucking way imaginable and sticking his tongue out just to try and get some more.

'Thanks, that was…beautiful,' he said with a big haunting smile.

'No problem, there is more at the counter you know?' I replied.

Emmett chuckled and got some food for him and Eddie. We all sat in weird fucking companionable silence, eating and drinking. Seeing Eddie trying to chew on the crusty bread gave me a bit of fucking encouragement. He was just so badly off. I hated to admit it but I felt stronger. I wasn't saying I was strong enough to do what it takes, but it was a good feeling, whatever the fuck it was.

The mood changed suddenly as Eddie became tense. It was like the first bellow of thunder before a bad fucking storm you knew was coming. Both his hands gripped the table and he pushed his chair back with his skinny ass

'Hey man, are you ok?' Jay asked the new guy.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but his words were cut short. A torrent of his undigested breakfast poured from his mouth splashing onto himself, the table and the floor. Rosalie screamed and pulled Allie out of the way. Emmett put his hand on Eddie's back and rubbed him gently as the vomit continued to pour from his mouth and nose. A stream of the juice was now shooting out mixing with the clumps bread and cheese.

'Water,' Eddie whispered as he exhaled. He was starting to shake.

Jasper, already on his feet, ran to the counter and brought over a jug. Eddie took the jug and drank straight from it. The cubes of ice bobbed against his lips as he poured it down his throat. When he was finished, Jay handed him some napkins. Eddie gurgled, spat and thanked him. Vomit leaked onto my lap from the tables edge but I still I sat there, absolutely motionless and feeling like such a fucking bitch. I watched faint traces of blood oozing through the liquid as he violently dry retched. Eddie shouldn't make me feel better, seeing someone like this shouldn't encourage me to do anything. It's not fucking about me, it's about him.

I stood up and shook myself out of my fucking stupor. I looked around the scene attempting to help in someway. Mrs Lynch looked over from the nurses station, caught my eye and walked on. Bitch. I thought about all the times I'd ever pulled a whitey, I thought about James and his cold compress.

I grabbed a towel from behind the counter and dipped it into a jug of water. I turned back to where Eddie was and wrung it out on the floor.

'Sit back Eddie. I don't think you have anymore to throw up, do you?' I asked as quietly and calmly as I could.

'No,' he half fucking burped.

'Ok, I'm going to put a cold towel on your head. It's probably throbbing is it?'

'Uh-huh,' he managed.

I got down beside him, my knees planted in the mess on the ground as I steadied myself. I took the white and blue towel and gently pressed it on his forehead. I slowly dabbed it around his face avoiding the cut above his eye. I placed it on the back of his neck, Eddie kept his eyes closed and said nothing at all. I didn't know if I was annoying him or not but I could feel he had a temperature and so I stayed there, by him and on my knees. Dipping the towel into the jug, wringing it out and patting him.

After a few minutes he opened his big fucking sad hazel eyes and looked straight into mine. A wall of tears dribbled down his face.

'Thanks guys,' Eddie said solemnly, 'I'm sorry, but I have to go.'

Edward's demon was winning as he brushed the tears off his face and got to his feet. He tore down the hall in the most haphazard fucking way. Charlie and Renee arrived at the table just a moment too late. Security was "on high alert", but nobody found him.

'He's gone,' was all Renee said in our group session that day.

We all went back to our rooms, alone and seriously down, after meeting Eddie. What a fucking waste of a life.


	5. Letters

**_Chapter Five_**

**_Letters_**

Over the course of two weeks at Purity House I learnt a few new things about myself, and they turned out to be pretty fucking important things. Some of them I shared, most of them I didn't, but, all of them were fucked up. The rehab kids and I had gotten close. I told Rose most of the things I found out, except this first one.

On Tuesday morning, the learning started. I was watching cartoons with Jake and some idiotic ad came on. It was really fucking stupid really, just some kids running around with water guns being chased by their parents with even bigger fucking water guns.

'Fucking lame ass ad', I said, and I fucking meant it too.

'Ya', Jake replied with a grimance, 'I want to ram that guy's gun up his ass, fucking lousy paedophilic actor.'

Then everyone on the TV just put down their water guns, they all just started to hug, making this weird mass of fucking emotion that I never could say I was ever part of before. They looked like a pack of fucking dogs or monkeys or something. You know, the ones that would sit around grooming each other and shit. I started thinking about me, who would be in my ad or my pack of wolves or dogs or monkeys? I couldn't picture myself in anything like that at all. I wasn't a team kind of a kid. It wasn't like I was picked last for soccer or some dim dumb shit like that, it was like I just didn't bother my ass going to soccer to get fucking picked. It was nice, for awhile, but you need to have people, just some other fucking souls in the world that can tie you down to it. And you can't fucking have a water fight on your own, let alone a pack-of-fucking-dogs-moment. If that was my ad, I would be all agro and fucking around town in some car, squirting people that I drove past. When I thought that thought and saw that image, out of fucking nowhere, and everywhere all at the same time, I got this impossible lump in my throat.

Jake pulled me to him and held my hand.

'Don't be a fucking pussy Swan, you'll be fine. You're one of the tough ones,' he said, 'you'll be fine.'

I didn't fucking believe him, cause fuck it, he's not fine either! I just nodded and dribbled and fucking blubbed some more as he roughly brushed way my eyes with the sleeves of his shitty jumper.

Without being fucking obvious and melodramatic, it was safe to say, I learnt that I'm sick of being alone. I want to have good people around me. I want a fucking family if I can get it. I don't know if Esme had gotten over the fact that last time I spoke to her, I actually shat myself in her presence. Fuck it, I don't know a lot of things but I want them.

On Thursday morning I called to the staff room to check if there was any word on Eddie, the fuck-up who escaped. I hated knowing he was out there, Ray said I was developing a healthy curiosity about the well being of others. I knocked at the door, waited and listened. I wasn't fucking snooping but I heard Charlie and Renee talking. They were hammering on about their "glory days" and referring to each other as "Choo choo" and "Runaway Ray". At my Thursday session I told Renee I overheard the conversation, read the engravings on the tables and put shit together.

'Well, Bella. You really need a hobby, you know that. But, you're right. I was an LSD addict, among other things. But honey, this conversation never happened. So let's leave it at that,' Ray said, as if things would be settled that simply.

Of course we didn't leave it at that. I fucking wanted to know more. And fuck it, but Ray gave it to me.

They hounded down those shitty tables from their old rehab place, just to remind them where they came from. It was all very Jenny-from-the-block style shit. Ray, Renee's new nickname, was a LSD user that used to "escape" continuously. Even with her fucking shady name, she's been clean for 17 years. I hated her because she thought she was better than us; now I know she actually is better than us. And you gotta respect that. I fucking respect what she's doing, where she's been and what she made of herself - even if she does look and smell like a fucking hippy. I fucking wanted to be in that state where I have my addiction so in control I can talk to other people about theirs.

I told her I was going to be like her someday.

'I'm going to be like you some day Ray, if it fucking kills me I fucking will and I can't fucking wait.'

Apparently she turned around and told her counsellor the same thing one day, but apparently she didn't swear as much as I did.

I don't hate myself. I really don't know myself well enough to have an opinion on that.

The third moment of fucking reckoning came when I was pulling weeds for my morning chore. When I first came here, like all newbies, I was on the bathroom duties team. Morning chores were such a fucking hassle. My alarm would ring at seven, I'd crawl out of bed and pull on anything with my chucks. By fifteen past, I would have checked the cleaning products I was given. Every fucking morning I'd come to the same sad realisation that not one contained chemicals of any kind. No alcohol. It was all lemon juice, vinegar juice and water mixes. Instructions on a pink piece of paper read 'Elbow grease essential' in Renee's loopy scrawl, of course. Cleaning skid marks from the toilet, pubic hairs from the shower and thick creamy limescale with a fucking sponge soaked in lemonade was bullshit. Quite frankly, toilet duties were bullshit.

That's exactly why I was so happy to see some new gambler bitch roll into Purity last week. I moved onto gardening duty. I pulled weeds that would crop up somewhere else the next day, I dug holes, I spread compost, I got clammy in strange mist that never lifted and it was fucking great. The whole thing was fucking marvellously mundane. I loved it. The whole practise was so pointless, but the control, the systematic way I was going about this chore for the past two weeks helped my mind mellow out a little. Pull a weed, put it in the basket. Pull a weed, dust of the dirt maybe and then put it in the basket. Different types of weeds, but the system worked – my hands were strong enough to pull them all. Nothing fucked-up happened.

I liked it, that state of being so in control you were almost bored.

I wouldn't admit it but I was fucking excited at this prospect of control. My mind was excited. I was still fucked up, but for the first time in a long fucking time I was here. Feeling. I could look around a room and I'd see it, just see things as they were. I'd pull weeds, feel the soft peat land of the Olympic Peninsula. I was fucking present. In control for now at least. It's funny it's taken me about 2 months just to feel like I'm here.

Jake told me I was looking really good this morning at breakfast.

'Hey Swan, you're looking really good. I mean,' he leant in closer and whispered, 'really good.'

That freaked the shit out of me and told him to fuck off.

'Fuck off Jake.'

Jake looked mildly offended, but I could tell he wasn't, 'Christ Swan, can't you take a fucking compliment.'

'No, I fucking can't. You know me. What did you expect me to do? I'm not the blushing and giggling type of girl, dipshit.'

But later on that day, I stood in front of the mirror, completely naked pulling at lumps of flesh that appeared out of nowhere and I agreed with Jake. My breasts were rounded, my hips were hung with soft warm skin, my skin was healthier. The dentist had visited, my false tooth would be ready in 2 weeks and the chip was repaired. It would click in on the bridge on my mouth and just like that, I wouldn't look like a maniac when I smiled.

I didn't want to admit it because that's when you usually take a turn up shit creek, but, things were getting better.

'Fuck ya Swan, you are looking good,' I told my reflection.

We wrote Esmee and Carlisle a letter today in our session. When I started to get this weird "present" vibe I felt really fucking bad. They really were such simple fucking people. The doctor and his little pretty housewife living in Forks, stuck with a fuck wit like me. It was Ray's idea, but I wanted to do it.

I didn't want to get all sappy but I told them about the things I learnt. About wanting people, about feeling in control, a bit healthier and then I got to the fucking good stuff. The stuff they wanted to hear, all the shit that Ray and I managed to work through.

'_I used because I guess I thought I deserved to use. I didn't expect or think I could have more than using. I was bored, depressed and lazy. But the really funny thing is I don't know myself well enough to hate myself. Things aren't so extreme as I once thought they were. So I'm sorry. Carlisle, thank you for taking me into your home. It's lovely and I'd really fucking like to come back some time. Esme, I don't know what to tell you. Last time I saw you, you had to clean my ass for me. I'm sorry for that. You are an amazing mother. When it comes to me, I said, I'm still fucking figuring that one out, just seeing what I'm made of.'_

We closed the envelope, I slapped the stamp on it and thanked Ray. Fuck, learning really was tiring. I called to Rose's door, satisfied. I didn't know how to tell her.

'Rose, you in there?' I whispered. She was sleeping a lot these days. Some people were worried about her. I think she just needed her fucking rest.

'Ya, Bells, come on in.'

She was a pile on the bed, nestled into fucking blankets and pillows. It just looked so fucking inviting.

'Hey,' she croaked.

'Hey,' I threw back.

'You write a letter?'

'Ya,' I laughed and shook my head as I spoke. Rose just knew, she always just fucking knew.

'Come here,' she ordered, lifting the blankets and wafting musty smells of sleep at me.

I climbed into her bed and cuddled up to her. My legs tucked in between hers for warmth. I held her arm for strength. We tried to sleep but we didn't really, just drifted in and out together until Em threw stones at her window.

**Hi guys,**

**Sorry it's been so long. College restarted, a friend died. Life got shit. But it's ok now. Thanks to those of you who pm-ed and didn't forget about the rehab kids.  
Now go on and review. Next chapter will be up in awhile...This just was easing us into more darker themes. Fuck ya. Love to the regulars. xxx**


	6. Spray paint

Chapter Six Spray Paint

**Promise I'll upload more, very fucking busy with college. Love to my very own rehab kids. Who's for an Edward POV next chap?**

Fucking road trips, who needs them? Expand your horizon; open your mind…just a shit load of pretty nouns with motivational verbs. Put in the right tape, fucking woohoo. I'd heard all the buzz words. Those of us that were 'suitably prepared' were taking a spin to our local areas. Twelve addicts packed into the van labelled 'Purity House', on a miserable Friday morning. We were actually meant to be 'accessing our past lives from a higher plane' , or some shit like that, but all I noticed that rain can simultaneously fall vertically and horizontally here in the Olympic Peninsula. We were pissed.

'We', of course, being the rehab kids. The little group had formed quite nicely, they made things very bearable. Ro was now my best friend, and not the kind you meet when you're away but would never be friends with at home. I wish there were people like her at home. She was fucked up like me, but she had her reasons and a good heart, underneath all the bravado. We'd talk about tattoo's we'd get when we got out but then explain why. Ro wanted a small drop of blood over her heart followed by the words, but it's ok.

'Well, Ro, that's pretty fucking emo but whatever you're into is cool with me.'

Emmett, despite the brawn, was an absolute pussy. When she told him about her tattoo plans he went quiet and fucking pottered off to his room. Ro thought she freaked him out, instead he called over that night with a tiny bandage. He said he hoped she would understand what he meant and he was sorry he couldn't put it into words. Ro got it. They met everyday at lunch for a date and talked. He told her about plans he had made for when he would get home, what he'd say to his parents, his little sister. Apparently even how he'd fucking introduce her to Ro. It'd been about a month since they started this little tirade. I joked about how he probably wanted to marry her too. She laughed when I said that. Now I'll be the first person to say I freaked out a little, but, she was still fucking smiling. As long as she was happy, I didn't give a shit.

'Just talk, Bells, honestly, that's all. And it's so fucking strange 'cause it's the most intimate I've ever felt with any man. Isn't that really fucked up?'

Her eyes were wild when she told me, she was falling in love, she wasn't quite in control. It reminded me of when I found her with that fucking rope around her neck. But maybe, it was a good thing. She was happy.

'Ya Ro, that's really fucked up, but in the best kind of way,' I replied.

'He's told me I'll never ever have to feel like shit again. Never lonely, never unloved, never scared, unless I want to be. Now Bells, that's a pretty scary fucking thought. " Emmett was in far deeper than anyone could have imagined.

So here we were sitting on a fucking bus, being driven onto the freeway. The world and it's fucking mother could see us. They owned us, we were fucking addicts and they knew it. A bright red Toyota overtook us carrying a mother and her 2.4 kids. Mommy told the little blonde children to stare straight ahead. Call me paranoid, but three necks do not snap forward all at once like that in a very unnatural fucking way. We got off at some town, like Forks, but smaller. Girls cried and pointed. Boys stayed quiet. Same rain, same cloud. We passed a reservation, Jake got frisky when he saw some people he knew. They saw him. His ridiculous fists crammed against the glass windows and then the door as he tried to get out. Like a pack of dogs, they ran with the car, screaming at him. Telling him random shit, like 'Sam's being a prick' and 'Leah is fucked'. Allie and I exchanged glances, life on the reservation isn't all leathers and feathers.

We drove some more, passing by places that were starting to become pretty familiar. Green trees surrendered to grey buildings and little American flags. Bit by bit, we inched into Forks. When we passed the welcome sign my pulse quickened, my palms grew sweaty. But my mind was pretty blank, it was a drive. No big deal. Letting us sample our world, nothing had changed. Just a drive. This didn't scare me and I was over the fucking moon. We passed the shop just off Whelans corner that never closed no matter what time of night and a bulimic girl started to cry. We drove by the high school, it was early, it was quiet and it was so fucking easy. It was hard not to feel good…but maybe feeling good wasn't a bad thing?

Either way I was fucking feeling something, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. Still seeing what I'm made of I guess.

We drove further and further in and around Forks. I started to recognise places a bit more. The bar where we got served all the time looked a lot less appealing now. I could control the desire now that I was away from it. Small town faces blurred past me, some with curiosity sparking their boring eyes. I could see the clogs turning. Isn't that the doctors girl, the foster? I saw the hospital where Carlisle worked and cringed with embarrassment. I still hadn't heard back from them. It physically hurt to drag up those old themes of rejection all over again. I pushed it from my mind as violently as it came. I was doing fine; all I ever fucking needed was myself.

It was over in a second, but that second felt like forever. We turned out of Forks and the little bus pulled into a rest area with a gas station nearby. Now this place I really recognised. Just through some light forest coverage was a clearing with an old stone house. That was where I used to do my worst and what I remember most of Forks.

What are the fucking chances?

I had nowhere to go and every reason to run. I didn't move. I sat on a bench in various uncomfortable positions. I sat on my hands, squeezing the little muscles in my arms and legs, contracting and relaxing. Anything fucking methodical and repetitive to calm me down.

'Swan, do you need to piss or something?' Jake asked me, with a slight hint of worry behind his eyes. I'd come to recognise it over these past few weeks, his eyes would harden and that was what I looked out for letting the words simply fall off me.

'I'm fine', I replied. He didn't believe me, I didn't believe me. But fuck it, we were good liars.

'Ok,' the light lines that had swept across his forehead were gone as soon as they arrived.

I never thought I'd be faced with this decision. It was just a drive, but it transpired to be something way more. I had a serious fucking choice. Did I take the trail through the forest or stay sitting on my nice bench?

I tried to think, really pushed away everything else and settled into it. Drink and drugs were never really a huge thing for me. Yes, I was an addict. Yes I did get withdrawals. Yes, I lost teeth. Yes I've had fucked older guys in bars whilst semiconscious. I did all that, but I always had a choice. Really, I could have stopped whenever I decided I deserved better.

So now, in this moment, do I deserve more than running away?

I grabbed my purse and headed to the gas station. I grabbed some bright fuck off green spray paint and threw some cash on the counter. I saw Ray look at me, sizing me up. She looked fucking intrigued.

"Hey Ray, where are the toilets?", I asked, because I'm a liary bitch.

"Hey Bells, it's Renee in public remember? The toilets are just around the corner on the left, but you should know that right? This is your town", she replied.

"Ya, of course." I smiled and headed to them. Bursting myself through a cubicle door I swung the lid down, and climbed up onto the toilet. A quick shove to the old rusted window forced it open. I slipped one leg out, then one more arm. Adrenaline soared through my body. It was my fight or flight moment. I dropped my bag and followed it landing on the soft wet boggy grass.

I took off and forced my way past branches and briars that whipped me as I ran. The trail was still there though, so easy to find. Bear cans, bottles of vodka, wine, needles, foils, condoms, you name it. If it was something a young teen in Forks really shouldn't be doing, you can bet your giddy fucking aunt that this was where they did it. Over and over again every Saturday night. It was home to a select few, hard core kids who needed help just as bad as I did.

I finally got to the old stone house, abandoned and filthy. It stood alone, no one was around to see me. I could do whatever I wanted, nobody would ever know except me. The house could have been beautiful, if it served a different purpose. Instead all I saw was what I left behind, wasting my life, loosing good friends to very fucking bad things. I twirled the can in my hand, throwing it from side to side. Solvent abuse can kill instantly, I read.

Carefully, and with shaking hands, I snapped off the cap. Testing the nozzle I sprayed a little into the air and watched as green flecks danced in the wind. I looked around once again, feeling guilty and laughing at the very fact that I did, and sprayed the perfectly crafted sketch onto the wall.

_Get help at Purity House._

I fought my way back to my friends, calm and excited, with fucking twigs in my hair.

'You look better Swan,' Jake said grinning as he let me go ahead onto the bus, I punched him on the shoulder as I moved to take my seat beside Ro. I was all fucking smiles. I left those four simple words on the grey wall behind and shit suddenly seemed simpler. I deserve better than all of that, to do more if I want to. Just like all fucking addicts do.


	7. Red wine Stains

Hi guys,

Well, I promise to keep writing...I hope this feels ok for you all...i was fucked out of it for a while there...here I am, back again. College is good, life is good. Fuck it anyways, hope this doesn't dissappoint, if it does...fuck you, you try it. xxx

Chapter Seven

Red Wine Stains

Green was generally my colour of choice when it came to spray paint. Lauren used to go for the fucking glaringly obvious playboy bunny pink, but glaringly obvious was always Laurens style. Sometimes I'd feel a little fucking guilty about sketching houses, schools, that kind of shit. The way I saw it was at least green tied in with the general scenary of Forks, as if that damp moss grew together and sent a message of general anarchy. Of course I made exceptions, that priest who touched those kids got a shit load of cocks, devils and general unfriendly signs, let's just say it didn't really leave much to the imagination. For his house I sprayed in reds, oranges, blues and whatever the fuck else that was on offer at Wall Mart. Later we all celebrated and congratulated each other at our place at the gas station. That was the same night Lauren got knocked up by James. About 2 months afterwards she was so giddy, Jessica asked her what the fuck was up her asshole. She told us she was just so happy that they don't charge double for abortions when you're carrying twins. Those were the kinds of shit and shady discussions I was used to. Spray paint was not synonymous with second chances and saving addicts.

So off the bus and in my room, alone again, I felt pretty fucking stupid. Like I had gone all fucking sacharine sweet. Pulling myself up to the piss poor mirror I stretched my mouth open. I had all my teeth, did that mean I was better? Flipping my tongue against the roof of my mouth I unhitched the bridge that held my false tooth in place. It fell into the sink and slid around on the white porcelain. I looked at my reflection again, no left incisor. On this glance I was an addict –it's funny how a tiny piece of plastic, and metal can give you a false sense of yourself. Sure, I was getting better, but I wasn't one to fucking advise people on how to unravel the knots in their lives. It was never fucking like me to spout some motivational shit. The guys back at home knew I was here, the gas station was their spot, our spot. It wouldn't be fucking long before someone would put shit together and come up with Bella. But that didn't bother me…. Who gives a flying fuck what dogs like Lauren or James think? Angela would be happy for me. The thing that was making my skin itch was that I felt like a fucking dipshit, like I was starring in some Mary Poppins version of my life. I wasn't about to be fucked up the ass by Mickey Mouse, there would be no Disney remake of this storey. Carlisle and Esme hadn't responded to my letter. I had no contact, no visits from friends. Sweet fuck all. So it was easy to think I was great, in this fucking bubble.

I pulled Jays red pen knife out from behind the mirror where it hung, hidden for about a month now. The same knife that saved Ro just spoke to me in here. Fuck it, I just needed to just know it was there. It's funny 'cause that knife kept me sane, just knowing there was a release there if I needed it, if the bubble burst. I squeezed it in my hand until my knuckles went pale. The weight in my hand calmed me. I didn't feel so fake and lost, fucking lonely and stupid. I was always just a flick of a cold sharp blade away from peace. Knowing that was enough, I closed my eyes and leant against the bathroom wall.

I heard a faint knock on my bedroom door, squeeking footsteps followed, runners caught in rain. My breathing hitched as I stuffed the pen knife into my pocket and pulled the door open. I was too tired and confused to scream at whoever just barged in. Especially when I saw it was Jake.

He just stood there, in my room, picking at bits of paint that flaked from the shitty wall. His little bitty titties were gone, as were his frightening vein strewn biceps. Instead I saw a guy with brown eyes and a kind smile. Fuck it, it wasn't my usual type but things started to tick over in my head. I wondered how big his cock was, did it shrink with the 'roids, did it matter if it had? I saw him lift me up on my bathroom counter and peel off my denim shorts that were damp from the light summer drizzle. I wasn't wearing any underwear today, I fucking forgot about laundry on Wednesday. I had been borrowing Alices until this morning, when she was too busy fucking Jay this morning. It was a bitch for most of the bus ride around town, but just right a few times when that driver took the corners smoothly. I stood there, remembering those corners and thinking those thoughts when Jake finally spoke.

'Swan, am I fucking interupting something here?' he grinned, as if he was fucking used to the effect he could have on a girl when he wasn't so Jersery Shored.

'Fuck you and the steroid buzz you rode in on', I jeered, blushing like a 4 year old, 'besides, you know a knock doesn't count when you just fucking stroll in, right?'

'Right. Right. Listen smart ass, I was actually just dropping by to see if you're OK. You know, what with you looking like a fucking retard today and all. I wanted to make sure you hadn't gone off …' he paused and looked at me in what could only be described as curious disgust, 'wait, where the fuck is your tooth?'

'My tooth is in the sink.'

'That's not a normal response Swan, where the _fuck_ is your tooth?'

I immediately tried to think of a cover up, and something stopped me. Why shouldn't I just fucking answer his question. Jake was sort of a friend. The 'sort of' being necessary because I sort of wanted to fuck him.

'Well, because I just wanted to see what it felt like,' I started. How did I try and explain that I wanted to look as sick as I felt? Having that tooth in the sink felt right, it wasn't me.

'Talk to me buddy,' he urged me on, 'I'm no fucking shrink but I won't judge you, OK? Like, I get the crazy shit that goes on in your mind when you're here, thinking to much.'

'Oh, god. Fuck it,' I groaned exasperated with this new concept to recovery. It was meant to be fucking easy. My hands coursed through my hair, it was soft and glossy. I just wished my insides matched my outside. I tore a small clump out as I worked my fingers through, rolling the strands into a roughened ball. I felt so fucking up my own ass, analysing my analysis like this. It was so inwardly thinking, so fucking melodramatic but it was real and honest and for the first time in a long time, I had a friend who I felt could handle the burden of the shit I wanted to talk about.

'Jake, it's like I'm sick of looking fixed. Fucking stupid, right? I have these silly, happy moments where I feel ace, but to be honest, I don't know my ass from my elbow. I want to look fucking hagard and feel shit and not have all these fucking responsibilities to myself. Just want to let loose, fuck someone, drink something, cut myselt. The knowing I can do better and have better, it's fucking scary Jake. I…I don't know…It's a great fucking place to be but it's all or nothing now.'

'I get it', he mummured gently.

'You do? Just don't fucking humour me Jake because….'

'Ya, I really fucking do.' He replied, heavy and stern taking one step closer. 'It's fucking difficult. We know so much, we know how to get better. Fucking healthy eating, exercise, which everytime I hear by the way is just a fucking hoot for me, watching our habbits, sticking with people who believe in us, not fuckers who want to tear us down, getting a plan, finding a dream and all that other bullshit that is cliched for a reason- because it's the fucking truth.'

'Ya, ya,' I was impressed; Jake hadn't poured out words like that with me, ever.

'So we fucking know all that shit, but the funny thing is nobody is going to do the work for us. I can't pop prescription pain meds anymore for the dull monotonous life of the reservation. I gotta find the shit on the res that I like and fucking deal with the shit I don't. Recovery isn't a fucking tv show, there's no fucking songs playing in the backround when your friends chase the bus telling you your girlfriend is fucking some towny prick.

'Well fuck it, Jake. I'm sorry.'

'Fuck if I care, she was a bitch anyways. I mean I loved her before things got difficult for us, but she was a slut when I met her and apparently she still is. But you…You know you don't need to worry about this, It's how we all see shit. You're never going to be better. There's no fucking certificate. I mean, no offence but look at Rose. She's been here long enough. Just cut yourself some slack, but don't fucking cut yourself.'

'Thanks Jake. All these fucking feelings are driving me round the fucking bend. Better or normal, I just know it's how I'm meant to feel but what the fuck is normal? I've never been fucking normal.'

Swan,' he laughed 'the funny fucking thing is, nobody here at Purity is normal. We've all shat our pants, literally or figuratively, one way or another we've made a fine fucking mess of ourselves. And really, what's so fucking good about normal? Normal girls are fucking boring. You're a hot girl, with character and a fucking forked tongue. You'll be fine, better than fine. You just have some red wine stains.'

This sudden outburst of emotional maturity needed a ying to it's fucking yang. Just as I predicted Jakes eyes took darted, his smirk returned and it was as if he didn't completely wipe away all this shit that had been building up in my mind.

'Speaking of stains, funny storey about my whore of an ex- you know she surfed her crimson fucking wave all over my bed one night. Ya, the dumb bitch passed out after this party we were having. Heavy flow, summer time, no pants and there you go, fucking stains all over my matress.'

We fell in a heap on the floor, laughing, releasing all this fucking crazy frustrated energy you get when you throw a load of fucking teenage addicts into one room and tell them to think about their feelings.

'Fuck Jake, thank you, I really needed that.'

On the ground Jay's penknife slipped out of my sweater pocket, onto the floor. I went to grab it quickly but Jake was too fast.

'Right, Swan, what the fuck is this?' He questioned, his face changing a second time in as many minutes. He looked older, frightening, not like Jake at all.

'No Jake I swear, you don't understand. I just hold it, it calms me down,' I said, breathless and forcing a light smile on my lips, willing him to understand that it was not what it seemed.

'Don't fucking lie to me Swan, I'm calling Nurse Lynch. You can explain to her why you have a fucking variety of blades at your disposal,' Jakes voice raised, he was getting closer to me.

'Ah, fuck not that bitch! Seriously? Fuck Jake, what the fuck, like, whose side are you on anyways?'

'Sides? Fuck sides right now! You don't cary around a fucking penknife in your pocket if you're not fucking cutting yourself on a daily basis,' He seemed genuinely mad at me, as if I was fucking slitting his wrists.

'Seriously, this shit is insane. You're over reacting. I haven't cut myself once and keep your fucking juice head voice down, you know you'll get in trouble if you're caught.' I reasoned with him, becoming genuinely fucking pissed that a nice conversation had turned into the fucking spanish inquisition. This reminded me of arriving home to Carlisle and Esme one night when they ordered me to take a piss in a cup. Esme went into the bathroom with me and didn't fucking bat an eyelid at me when I purposely pissed all over the outside of the container.

'Where are you hiding them? Take off your t shirt. Proove it then, drop your shorts. I've seen enough cutters to know that wrists are amateurs work. Show me your thighs.'

'Will I fuck,' this was starting to piss me off, I never really was a liar. If Carlisle asked what I had taken I'd tell him for the most part, he only started urine samples when he found snow in my sock drawer. I reasoned with Jake, ' Listen, you're just going to have to fucking believe me, I'm not wearing any fucking underwear. I missed laundry, so i'm not taking off my fucking clothes, alright? Just ask Alice.'

'So you're telling me that I've spent the fucking day sitting beside you on a bus and you've had no fucking panties on? Swan, that's bullshit, that's the shit guys dream about. She'll lie for you. You can't do this to yourself. Stop fucking lying to me and to yourself. Shit, I thought you wanted to get better?'

I finally had enough, I knew I didn't have to do this but fuck it, I wanted to prove him wrong. I yanked off my shorts and shirt, kicking them and throwing them at him. My body chilled, my fucking heart bet out of my chest. I wasn't hidding anything from anyone now. Nothing hidden from him now I turned around slowly.

'Fucking happy now? Your steroid induced fucking rage attack over? Ordering a girl to take off her fucking clothes and fucking emotionally blackmailing her to do so. You're a fucking spastic Jake,' I spat at him. I moved closer to him. 'Are we done?'

'Shit,' Jake swallowed hard, 'Shit. Swan, I thought you were lying, fuck I'm sorry.

'Well, fuck, you've pissed me off, but why don't you take off your clothes too. That ought to fucking even the score a little,' I teased, feeling a bit fucking spiteful to be honest. I didn't know where this was going but fuck if I wasn't going to make him feel something for how he just acted.

'Swan, don't ask me to do that. Please just, put your clothes back on.'

'Why the hell not Jake?'

'I'm sorry, OK?. I- fuck- I just wanted to make sure you were ok…Fuck sorry, I'll get out of here.'

Honestly I was surprised at being turned down like this, it didn't happen very fucking often. Standing naked I didn't feel pissed at him because I knew there was more to it, he wouldn't look at me, he couldn't meet my eye let alone perve on my tits. I decided to test the water, see whatever the fuck was going on in Jakes head.

'What, now you're pissed I've taken off my clothes?' I smirked.

'Pissed is not the word. I'm just. I..' Jakes voice trailed off, he swallowed hard. I could see him clench his jaw, the muscles stiffen as he formulated some sort of repsonse.

'Listen, Jake, you're really going to leave me. Naked. Here. All on my own. You think I'd take off my clothes all because of you ordering me to. That's fucking sweet, but entirely presumptuous of you. I'm stubborn, I wanted to prove a point. And I like to fuck. Haven't fucked in awhile. I miss having a cock in me. Why don't you change that?' I edged towards him, a good lay was just what I needed. Sometimes sex was with someone when you're in love and sometimes sex was with someone because you've had a bad day. Fucking swings and roundabouts, that's life.

'Ya, Swan don't say that right now. My dick is going to like tear itself from my body and fuck you. But I'm really going to leave you. Naked. Here. All on your own. Because…fuck, normal people wear underwear. And you shouldn't be holding that knife anyways. Shit…' He smiled, rubbing his eyes with his hand. I knew he wanted me, I felt pretty safe with him.

'Normal? You fucking told me normal is boring like 10 seconds ago'

'It is, and…I did not plan on telling you this, like this…can you just put this on….'

He threw me my t shirt, I pulled it on, stretching it down to cover myself.

'Good, now I can almost form logical thoughts again. Swan, let's just say you're really not someone I just want to fuck. I mean, clearly I want to seriously give it to you right now…for hours…in different ways, but not in this circumstance. I mean, fuck, you are hotter than I imagined….every night for the past 3 months but…no not like this Swan.'

'Really? You are either totally in love with me or completely full of shit,' I laughed at him as I tucked my knees up and hiked the t shirt over my legs. Sitting like this felt nice, I wasn't awkward, it all felt like fun. A bit of a fucking joke...I liked that he fantasised about me, I like that I showed him the original. It turned me on to think of him, thinking of me while he pulled on his dick.

'Bella, some day I'm going to make your toes curl and your eyes roll. But shit, I want to do it to you somewhere better than this, when you feel comfortable with all your fucking teeth.'

That made us laughing again, just at the simple ridiculousness of our situation. Surely I should be pissed, surely he should have me bent over? But hell, everything was easy with Jake. I grabbed my shorts from him, hitting him over the head with them as I moved to pull them up. I was feeling better than if we had fucked. We'd talked, I understood myself better. I was into him, or how I could be around him. Curling up beside him again I rested my head on his shoulder, it felt nice. Right almost.

'Now give me the knife you crazy bitch,' he demanded, interrupting my happy train of thoughts.

'Fine you obsessive little prick.'

I handed the red shiny Swiss penknife over to him taking a second to give him a scowl. He was right, I shouldn't have it, but I had to maintain some sort of hard girl attitude.

'And go put your tooth back in, you deserve it.'

'Fuck Sake Jake don't be such a pussy.'

'It's true, now put your tooth in.'

'Fine. Just so you know, this is so not a whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. I gotta see how big that cock is before I'd ever commit,' I joked, maybe half serious.. Even though I knew it'd probably be perfect. I'd have to wank tonight that was for sure.

'Right, Swan,' he nodded, looking almost offended but I could still see that little shit sparkle in his eyes, 'just tell me something, did you ever consider breast implants?'

'No, I just thought I'd take some steroids, get myself some of those little tits you have Jake. Much less invasive you know?,' I countered and the little shit started laughing. We both did.


End file.
